Poems begining by A
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At the door
© Eugene Field
I thought myself indeed secure,
So fast the door, so firm the lock;
But, lo! he toddling comes to lure
My parent ear with timorous knock.
All men to me are god-like Gods!
© Sant Tukaram
All men to me are god-like Gods!
My eyes no longer see
vice or fault.
At play
© Eugene Field
Play that you are mother dear,
And play that papa is your beau;
Play that we sit in the corner here,
Just as we used to, long ago.
At Cheyenne
© Eugene Field
Young Lochinvar came in from the West,
With fringe on his trousers and fur on his vest;
The width of his hat-brim could nowhere be beat,
His No.
Apple-Pie and Cheese
© Eugene Field
Full many a sinful notion
Conceived of foreign powers
Has come across the ocean
To harm this land of ours;
A monk sips morning tea
© Matsuo Basho
A monk sips morning tea,
it's quiet,
the chrysanthemum's flowering.
Abu midjan
© Eugene Field
When Father Time swings round his scythe,
Entomb me 'neath the bounteous vine,
So that its juices, red and blithe,
May cheer these thirsty bones of mine.
A Valentine
© Eugene Field
Go, Cupid, and my sweetheart tell
I love her well.
Yes, though she tramples on my heart
And rends that bleeding thing apart;
A spring poem from bion
© Eugene Field
One asketh:
"Tell me, Myrson, tell me true:
What's the season pleaseth you?
Is it summer suits you best,
A Book Of Strife In The Form Of The Diary Of An Old Soul - April
© George MacDonald
1.
LORD, I do choose the higher than my will.
A rhine-land drinking song
© Eugene Field
If our own life is the life of a flower
(And that's what some sages are thinking),
We should moisten the bud with a health-giving flood
And 'twill bloom all the sweeter--
A proper trewe idyll of camelot
© Eugene Field
Whenas ye plaisaunt Aperille shoures have washed and purged awaye
Ye poysons and ye rheums of earth to make a merrie May,
Ye shraddy boscage of ye woods ben full of birds that syng
Right merrilie a madrigal unto ye waking spring,
Ye whiles that when ye face of earth ben washed and wiped ycleane
Her peeping posies blink and stare like they had ben her een;
A piteous plaint
© Eugene Field
I cannot eat my porridge,
I weary of my play;
No longer can I sleep at night,
No longer romp by day!
A paraphrase
© Eugene Field
Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be Thy name;
Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth, in Heaven the same;
Give us this day our daily bread, and may our debts to heaven--
As we our earthly debts forgive--by Thee be all forgiven;
A heine love song
© Eugene Field
The image of the moon at night
All trembling in the ocean lies,
But she, with calm and steadfast light,
Moves proudly through the radiant skies,
A drinking song
© Eugene Field
Come, brothers, share the fellowship
We celebrate to-night;
There's grace of song on every lip
And every heart is light!
A Chaucerian Paraphrase of Horace
© Eugene Field
Syn that you, Chloe, to your moder sticken,
Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures full sicken;
Like as a lyttel deere you ben y-hiding
Whenas come lovers with theyre pityse chiding;
African Writings
© Godfrey Mutiso Gorry
If you meet literature from Africa
Or even their mentors
In such works
You realize a trait of madness
An Ode To My Jailed Friend
© Godfrey Mutiso Gorry
Unmasked
The spirits' face is a black hole
Swallowing the celestial beauty
Of the stars.
A Glimpse Of Pan
© James Whitcomb Riley
I caught but a glimpse of him. Summer was here.
And I strayed from the town and its dust and heat.
